Young Writers Society

The next few days pass in a blur of endless lessons and tears. I avoid everyone else; they assume that I’m overcome with grief but, in reality, I’m too cowardly to face Scarlett’s tear-stained face. Yes, it’s cowardly and I’m not proud of it but, for some inexplicable reason, I can’t prevent myself from doing it. It’s just a subconscious desire and, I follow it unthinkingly.

When I’m not in lessons, I’m on the back of Tempesta, galloping as far away from The Cottage and all of its misery as humanely possible. I don’t eat in the dining hall; I go to the kitchens every day just as lunch is served and beg some bread and water from one of the kitchen staff, Maureen. She takes pity on me, I know and I hate the knowledge of her pitying me but, it’s either that or I shall starve.

I ride out at dawn every day and I ride again at dusk, galloping until the sun lays its weary head to rest below the treetops of the forest. Then, I go to the dormitory and flop onto my bed, pretending to be asleep so that no one tries to question me. On the rare occasions when I do see people I know (thankfully I have most of my lessons alone) they look at me with nothing but concern in their eyes and I hurry away in the opposite direction. Poppy’s the worst one at doing this.

On Friday, I’m trying to slip from the kitchen down to the lake to go for a swim when Poppy accosts me in the entrance hall.

“Where on earth are you going?” She demands, eying me beadily.

I mumble something about going for a swim.

“Oh no you’re not,” She tells me, “It’s the ball this evening, remember?”

It takes a lot of effort to prevent myself from groaning out loud.

Poppy looks at my stricken face sympathetically. “I know, the last thing I want to do now is dance but,” She pauses to stroke my shoulder reassuringly, “I think that Matt would have wanted us to.”

I nod and look at the floor, willing it to swallow me whole.

“I’ll do your hair if you like?” She offers, clearly trying to cheer me up.

“Yeah,” I say, looking up and forcing my features to smile, “That’d be great.”

“Well, d’you have a dress?”

“No, was I supposed to get one?”

Poppy laughs and pulls me though another of the mystery doors off of the entrance hall. Inside is what can only be described as clothes shop. It is made up of two rooms. One room is filled with clothes which are clearly designed for men (I do, however notice that several girls browse in the jumper section) and the other half houses an assortment of dresses, skirts and ridiculous floral blouses. One consolation is that, in one corner there is, a large rack which is filled with black clothes. At least I won’t have to go to the ball naked. In the corner, there are several curtained cubicles, all of which are empty. I guess everyone else got their dresses in advance.

“What about this?” Poppy asks, holding up a pink lacy confection.

I screw my face up and shake my head. “Can I wear these?” I ask, holding up a pair of comforting jeans. Please let me wear them, I pray.

“Don’t be silly,” Poppy giggles, “You have to wear a dress.”

“A dress…” I murmur faintly, closing my eyes and trying to imagine myself in a frilly pastel confection. The resulting image is nauseating.

“Here,” Poppy says, coming towards me, brandishing several dresses, “Why don’t you try these dresses on?”

I decide that it would be easier to go along with it so, I allow myself to be forced into a cubicle and, barely thinking, I change out of my comforting trousers and into a white draped ball gown. As soon as I’ve managed to wriggle into it, I turn towards the mirror. I don’t know what I was expecting but, the end result certainly isn’t good.

“Are you done?” Poppy asks through the curtain. Sighing, I stomp out into the shop and glare at Poppy. She looks shocked for a moment before pausing and attempting to find something good to say about the dress. “Well, maybe it isn’t exactly your colour…”

“Poppy, I look like mutton dressed as lamb.” I snap.

“No, Elizabeth my dear, you look like lamb dressed as mutton.” She says kindly and, despite myself, I can’t prevent myself from smiling. She is, at least, trying her best. In an attempt to be helpful, I try the next dress on…and the next…and the next until it seems that, there is no colour in the world which suits me.

It transpires that, ruffles are not for me nor is baby blue lace. Yellow makes me look ill and pale pink makes me look absolutely dreadful. Once we’ve exhausted the supply of pale, innocent colours, Poppy at last turns to the corner which houses clothes which might possibly suit me. Conceding defeat, she hands me a strapless black dress, pursing her lips and looking down at it disapprovingly. I try not to smile as I mince back to the changing cubicle.

As soon as I slide the black velvet over my skin, I know that this is the dress for me. The black contrasts with my pale skin and matches my raven hair. Yes, black is the colour for me. This time, rather than trudging out of the changing room with my head hung low, I strut out, smiling. Poppy claps her hands together, delighted.

“Yes,” She murmurs excitedly, “I didn’t want to dress you in black but, yes, black is the colour for you.”

“Do you have a dress yet?” I ask her, gazing down at the top of her head.

“Oh yes,” She says, “I picked up mine last week.”

“What do I do now?”

“Well, you scan your card there.” She says, pointing to a card reader which is located in the doorway. “You do have your card, don’t you?” She adds sharply.

“’Course I do. It’s in my pocket.” I assure her, hoping that my trousers haven’t been washed. Thankfully, I am spared torture at the hands of Poppy as I manage to locate it in the left trouser pocket.

I take the dress off and pay for it before I’m ushered into the dormitory by Poppy. It appears that, the boys have been chased from the room by an intoxicating cloud of hairspray and perfume. How I envy them. Poppy tells me to put my dress on before forcing me into a chair. Once I’m all but strapped to the seat, she begins to tug at my knotted hair whilst a silent Scarlett is dragged over to apply makeup to my face.

Scarlett looks tired and thin and, for once, she doesn’t even attempt to make acerbic comments or argue. I almost miss it.

After I’ve suffered what seems like hours of torture at the hands of Poppy and a comb, a mirror is thrust into my hands and I am transformed.

My skin is pale and my hair is black once more but, other than that, I look nothing like my usual low-maintenance self. Poppy has somehow managed to smooth my unruly curls (it turns out that, whatever they did to my hair on the first day here isn’t permanent) into a twist at the back of my head. A few tendrils have been allowed to hang next to my fringe, softening the blunt cut. My eyes have been drawn out of my face so that they look even greener than usual. My lips have been painted bright red and a string of pearls is clasped at my throat. Even Scarlett’s unable to keep the appreciation out of her face. In spite of myself, I smile and hug Poppy and Scarlett, thanking them. Poppy twitters about it being nothing and tells me to go to the common room. Scarlett remains limp throughout my embrace and stares listlessly out of a window.

“D’you want me to help you get ready?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t cry.

“No,” She says tonelessly,” I’m not going. I’d rather stay here.”

I look into her sleepless eyes and know that it would be best not to try to persuade her. I did this to her and, in truth, I don’t want to spend the evening with her haunted green eyes.

I make my way to the common room where the boys hang out, having obviously been ready for hours. They’re watching the TV and eating crisps. In short, they’re pretending that they don’t have to face several hours of dancing and simpering at the ball tonight. Sometimes, I really love boys.

“Elizabeth,” Eddie whistles when he sees me, “You look-“

I grin and take a handful of crisps out of the bowl he’s holding.

“I’m still me.” I assure him through a mouthful of crisps. Tonight, I am determined to enjoy myself, no matter who my partner is.

“I know that.” He says, still staring at me.

I have to look away because I know that, I am not still me. I am no longer Rebecca Grace Parker who hadn’t eaten a decent meal for five years. I’m no longer the girl who had to move around every week to prevent herself from dwelling on the past. I am not the girl who sought only to live and to protect herself. Now, they’re training me to be a warrior; they’re training me to fight. No, I am no longer ‘me’ but, then again, I’m not sure who I was in the first place.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie asks, squeezing my hand.

“Oh You’ll need much more than a penny.” I say, turning to him and smiling. “So, how long until this thing starts then?”

“Don’t let Poppy hear you say that,” He says warningly, “She’s been waiting for this all week. According to her, we all need to cheer up…” He trails off and I know that he, like Poppy, thinks that I’m distraught at Matt’s death which I am but just not for the reasons they think. He looks at me anxiously. I smile at him and he sighs in relief.

We sit side by side, staring at the worn floor when the doors are flung open and Poppy walks in, resplendent in deep green. Her blue eyes sparkle as Pete pins a red poppy in her hair.

Eddie leaps to his feet and offers me his arm.

“The ball awaits, my lady.” He says gallantly.

I giggle and take his arm, allowing myself to be escorted down to the hall. We talk about everything and nothing as we make our way through the corridors and I can hear Poppy laughing all the way. It didn’t take her long to forget about her one-time-love Matt then.

The usually cold hall has been transformed into a light ballroom. Lanterns have been hung from the ceiling and a buffet takes up the entire left wall. The rest of the floor has been left clear for dancing and already, an orchestra plays whilst waiters and waitresses mingle in the ground, offering people elegant flutes of champagne. A delegation of teachers stands where the high table would normally be.

At first, people stand awkwardly at the sides of the hall, uneasily waiting for people to start dancing but then, Poppy and Pete propel themselves into the centre of the hall, Poppy leading Pete in a waltz. Eddie grins at me nervously before I place my hand on his arm and lead him onto the floor. I dance the steps I once saw my father dance with my mother, all the while wishing, despite myself that I wasn’t here in Eddie’s arms but in someone else’s entirely.

The dance ends and I lead Eddie over to the buffet table, hunting for drinks. I locate a glass of orange juice and hand one to Eddie. We stand with our backs against a wall, sipping orange juice and watching Poppy whirl around the dance floor, her hair gradually coming loose.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charles lead Julie onto the floor and an ugly creature roars indignantly from deep within my chest. Immediately, I seize Eddie’s arm and drag him into the centre of the dancers, ensuring that my body is pressed tightly against his. I glance over at Charles and see him looking. I smile up into Eddie’s perplexed but delighted face and step closer, forcing myself into his arms. We waltz around, holding each other in a tight embrace, Eddie gazing down at me whilst I sneak glances at Charles and Julie. I’m pleased to note that, they’re holding each other at arm’s length.

Suddenly, the orchestra changes from a loving waltz into a seductive tango and the night truly begins. The tango provides me with an even better excuse to ensure that Eddie’s warm body is never more than a couple of millimetres away. Strangely, I’ve never actually danced the tango before but, I already know the alluring steps. Eddie pretends to be strong and manly whilst I attempt to seduce him. In truth, it’s not Eddie that I’m, trying to seduce.

I glance over at the clock. It reads eleven. By now, several people have left the hall and the rest are either attempting to dance or standing at the side of the hall, looking dejected. I mutter something about getting a drink and leave Eddie standing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by dancing couples. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charles leave Julie on the floor and walk towards the buffet table.

“Elizabeth.” He says, nodding at me as he locates a glass of champagne.

“Charles.”

“We appear to be the only people left.” He observes, seeing Eddie leave the hall with Jack.

“Yes, we do.” I say, “We’re the only people with any stamina in this place.”

“Then we’re two of a kind, aren’t we?” He says, smiling.

“Yes, I do believe we are.” I say, smiling back.

“Well, would you like to dance?” He asks abruptly.

“Dance? Of course I’d like to dance but with who?”

He rolls his eyes and offers me his arm. I grin and take it, allowing him to escort me to the dance floor where Poppy and Pete gyrate to the waltz.

Charles bows to me and smiles at me mockingly. I bob a curtsey before he pulls me towards him and steers me into a waltz.

“So, how is Julie?” I ask as we whirl around the hall.

“Julie?” He says sharply, “Oh, Julie. Yes, she’s fine.”

I look over at where Julie whirls around with George, smiling up into his ugly face.

“She appears to have got over your rejection tolerably well.”

“Yes, I don’t know whether to be offended that I obviously meant so little to her.”

I laugh. “So, tell me, are students allowed to dance with teachers?”

“In this place? I doubt anyone cares.” He says, “However, just to be on the safe side…”

He pulls me from the dance floor and we weave in and out of the dancing couples until we reach the large doors. We hurry out into the grounds, laughing. I follow him round to the side of The Cottage where there is a rose garden. I lean back against the stone wall, panting. He grins at me and kisses me lightly on the lips.

“Sorry,” he mutters, “I had to do that at least once-” I grin at him and kiss him back. Our kisses are good, how kisses ought to be. There’s nothing sweet or chaste about them. I wonder if Eddie would ever kiss me like this. I highly doubt it. We stand against the wall of the rose garden kissing for some moments, oblivious to the cold night air before Charles pulls away.

“We shouldn’t be doing this…”

I laugh and kiss him again.

Someone coughs and we both look up and grin sheepishly. Eddie is stood at the corner of the rose garden, glaring at us. I can feel my grin sliding off of my face like slime.

“Hi.” I say.

“Come on, Elizabeth.” Eddie says, holding out his hand.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

“Why should I go with you?”

“Because you can do better than him!” He shouts, a bright red flush spreading from his throat into his hair.

“Oh, and you’re better than him?” I say although, in my heart, I know what the answer is.

“He’s your teacher!”

“Actually, Eddie, we’re into the whole teachers are friends not enemies thing here.” Charles says smoothly, stepping forwards slightly.

“Well, you certainly seem to be very friendly.” Eddie says acerbically.

“Yes, well I like to go out of my way to make people feel welcome.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns from Charles to me. “Elizabeth, are you coming?”

“No.” I say shortly, turning to Charles and kissing him on the lips. I vaguely hear Eddie storming away before Charles laughs and breaks away.

“You’d better get back to the dormitory.” He tells me.

“Why?”

“Well, do you want anyone else to come and visit us?”

Before I can speak, the sound of crunching gravel fills the cool night air and we both look up like startled rabbits. I kiss him one last time before we both flee, I to the dormitory and Charles to his office.